


All Was Still

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-04
Updated: 2009-09-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: She doesn't want to be like him, doesn't want this darkness inside her. Self Injury Warning!





	All Was Still

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> I notice a lot of these D/Hr stories where Hermione is cutting herself and Draco finds out, then suddenly turns into the hero. This one's just a little different :)

Hermione's eyelids drooped wearily. Her hands shook. She felt oh so sleepy, and at the same time, adrenaline rushed through her. Heat radiated through her body, seemed to finally be seeping out, out of every pore, every orafice..and every slit.   
  
Every cut, burn, and scratch over her legs and pelvis stung beautifully. She was smart - she knew doing this anywhere else was just plain idiotic, for people would stare, ask her questions, perhaps even try to force her into the hospital wing. She needn't go there, however; she was not in pain. Pain was not what she felt after flicking her wand at her pale, exposed stomach, hips, thighs, making cuts, dragging them, as long and as deep as she wanted...no..pain was never there. Pain was what went away. Pain was what was muffled, silenced even, in the rare moment she had to herself between classes and being with Harry and Ron, her dearest friends. She thought about them, wiping away stray tears. What would they say to her? Sometimes she thought she was not so smart, doing this to herself. It had the potential to be very dangerous; but then, she convinced herself otherwise, for she always kept the injuries clean and wrapped as best she could. She relished in the sting that would accompany every move, every bend, every twist. It reminded her of those rare moments alone...away from the stress, the pressure, the promise of being near perfect. Of course, she knew no one expected perfection of her, but what they did expect...well it might've been the same thing.   
  
Picking up her wand, she muttered a cleaning spell, and bandaged her knew cuts. Slowly, she rose, groaning slightly as she did, and accidentally dropping the wand, but she took little notice. The sting was there, and she loved it. She felt calm, peaceful, exhausted. All she wanted to do was go back to her dorm room and rest. She snatched up her wand again and turned, expecting the corrider outside the room she occupied to be empty...  
  
Of course, it was not. She walked a few steps, gazing at her feet. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and instictively she looked up. No one in front of her. She looked over her shoulder, and her heart nearly exploded with fright. She jumped back a foot, drawing her wand.   
  
''Malfoy,'' she breathed, her eyes wide, her breath coming quickly.   
  
''Mudblood.'' He replied. Anger took over and stomped out Hermione's fear. Her blood boiled.   
  
''What do you want, Malfoy.'' It was more a statement than a real question.  
  
''Oh nothing, Granger. You might want to know, however..you're leaking.''   
  
Confused for a second, Hermione's expression changed. However with a sudden, worrying realization she looked down -- her bandage had apparently not been on properly, and now blood was seeping through her jumper, emitting a dark stain. It looked almost black in the light. She gasped and pressed a hand there, looking up again. She was almost speechless.   
  
''Malfoy...if you even...I don't know what you're...if you tell anyone, you rat faced git, I'll hex you into oblivion!'' She shrieked. Draco cracked a smirk.   
  
''Calm yourself, you filthy mudblood. Why would I? I haven't much to gain from that...you get enough attention, you and Potter and his other sidekick. I wouldn't want to spoil my good reputation by helping the likes of you and it getting around the whole school. Besides--'' He took two long strides forward and looked Hermione straight in the eye. She did not move.  
  
''I quite approve of what you do. Feels nice, doesn't it...'' He trailed off, shoving up the rim of his shirt. Hermione fought down another gasp. There were gashes, angry ones, worse than any of hers, etched into Draco's white skin. It was a contrast that almost gave her a headache. She took a small notice that none of his were wrapped, or looked as though they'd been cleaned at all.   
  
He leaned forward to whisper to her. ''I know what you're like, Granger. You're not the goody two shoes everyone thinks you to be. You have a darkness in you too. It may not be the same kind I have, but I'll tell you, from what I've seen, and I've seen a lot,'' Hermione's eyes widened; how long had he known about her?   
  
''I'll tell you,'' he repeated, ''it's damn close, it is. I must amend you, mudblood..'' With one swift motion Draco reached forward and kneaded the spot where Hermione was bleeding with his knuckles. It felt as if fire had touched her skin, it hurt so much. She let out a wail and clutched the spot he'd hit, her eyes wrenched shut.   
  
''I didn't think you had it in you.'' With that, he stepped back. When Hermione dared look again, she saw a poison in his eyes, though not one that she'd ever seen before. This time, it was brighter - almost as if he reveled in the fact that she was doing this, that he'd caught her in it. His mouth twitched, she thought, almost into a smile.. but before she could be sure, Draco turned on his heel and marched down the corridor, turning the corner out of sight. She could still hear his footsteps thumping, and held her breath until they were gone.   
  
The breath she let out came as a sob. She knelt onto the carpet, shuddering. In her mind, she had no idea why she was crying. Malfoy told her, it made no difference, he wasn't going to say anything -- but deep down, she knew the real reason. She was like him, he was right..and that fact pierced her like nothing had ever before. She knew he had gained a kind of filthy respect for her but she didn't want it, would never want it. She would rather be a dirty mudblood in his eyes, worthless to him, to the world, forever. Her sobs echoed in the corridor, as she sank lower and lower, until her face felt soft etched carpet, and she lay there. She half wished someone else would find her. Harry, Ron, Neville--anyone. But as she sobbed she knew that was a stupid thing to wish. They weren't there, they weren't. Except for her wailing, everything was silent..and all was still.


End file.
